


Absolute & Constant

by bitsori



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Exes, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 00:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18435251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/pseuds/bitsori
Summary: “You’re still here.”“You told me to sleep here,” Minho shoots back, deadpan.“No. I don’t mean that,” Jisung whines and shakes his head; he sounds like a child - a drunk one, granted, but he’s speaking with such easy earnestness usually only found in a five year old. “I meanhere.Not my bed,” Jisung clarifies.“Here—as in my life.”--Even after everything, Minho stays by Jisung's side. ( AU )





	Absolute & Constant

**Author's Note:**

> [ 1 ] I just really wanted to finish something short and quick before trying to write a monster again. It was touch and go for a while because everything I started were better suited as lengthy fic… and then this happened. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> [ 2 ] Ages mentioned are international age, just to make it easier on everyone.

 

❦

 

 

**0 2 : 1 6 AM**

 

 

“Hmm.” Even in his half-conscious state, Jisung is giddily humming as Minho helps him get into bed. The moment his head hits the cushion, Jisung turns to his side, drunken giggles pouring out of him as he nuzzles his cheek against the softness of the pillow. “Thanks,” he says, voice lowered to an almost whisper; he flashes a smile at the older, hand reaching forward to pat the empty space beside him. “Minho— Hyung, let’s sleep.”

In his highly intoxicated state, it’s clear that Jisung doesn’t really notice the subtleties of Minho’s expression; the way he’s looking at him with one-third exasperation and two-thirds affection. Not even the way his shoulders sag and how the corners of his lips twitch when he’s invited into Jisung's bed. Minho isn’t stupid - he knows plain well that the invitation is nothing more than platonic, but he’s careful anyway when he accepts and he cautiously slides in next to the younger, shifting and  turning onto his side so that they’re facing each other.

Minho isn’t entirely sober himself - he’s had a bit to drink as well, but Jisung has always been the more lightweight between the two of them, so even though he’s a bit past tipsy, he isn’t above appreciating the comfortable feeling of the moment. He watches as Jisung repeatedly nuzzles his cheek - his adorable, squishy cheek - against the pillow; his mouth is curved into a wide and blissful grin, and Minho can’t help but chuckle softly because Jisung has a heart-shaped mouth, and it’s especially obvious when he smiles like this.

And then Jisung sighs, and his eyelids finally flutter close. For several minutes the only things heard in the room are the soft, synchronized sounds of their combined breathing, heavy from a long night of drinking at a stall just a block away from Jisung’s apartment. Minho is as tired, but he doesn’t feel like sleeping just yet. Instead, he spends a full minute staring at Jisung, and when he decides that Jisung is well on his way to dreamland, he closes his own eyes, ready to maybe follow him.

“You’re still here.”

It’s not even five minutes when Jisung starts up again, his words soft yet slurred. There’s a hint of tenderness to it, some genuine gratitude that has Minho curiously opening his eyes so he can check what kind of expression his friend is wearing, to go with the words.

“You told me to sleep here,” he shoots back, deadpan.

“No. I don’t mean that,” Jisung whines and shakes his head; he sounds like a child - a drunk one, granted, but he’s speaking with such easy earnestness usually only found in a five year old. “I mean _here_ ,” Jisung continues, his tone simultaneously soft and high-pitched at once, in a way that Minho thinks is only possible because _it’s Han Jisung._ “Not my bed,” Jisung continues to clarify. _“Here—_ as in my life.”

If Minho is taken aback by the words, he doesn’t show it - or at least he tries not to. Not that Jisung would notice anyway. A few minutes of shut eye doesn’t effectively sober anyone up to the point of noticing such details. Instead, Jisung goes on rambling, and Minho can only sigh while listening.

“Everyone always leaves me,” Jisung says, and Minho can say with utmost certainty that that’s a lie. Jisung has a lot of friends, all of them loyal.

“What would Felix say if he heard that come from you?” Minho murmurs, sighing as he reaches over to try and pat Jisung’s hair down - a lot of it is sticking out all over the place, and he’d laugh and tease Jisung if the atmosphere was a little less tense, maybe. “Or Chan-hyung,” Minho adds as he takes his hand away.

Jisung lets out another whiny sound, and Minho can only sigh. He knows Jisung well enough that he’s aware where this soft, drunk tirade is going and what it’s really about; the entire reason why Jisung had even invited him out to drinks, the reason why he’d downed shot after shot of soju when he doesn’t have the highest tolerance for alcohol to begin with, is because of his most recent break-up. Minho can say a lot of things about Jisung’s last boyfriend, some of them even _good -_ because as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Hyunjin is a sweet guy, a _decent_ guy, even, whose only failing is that he’s just broken Jisung’s heart - but why the hell would he want to do that when the only point that matters is that he broke Jisung's heart, and to Minho, that's more than enough to cancel the rest of his good qualities.

Unsure how to respond, he ends up not saying anything at all in the end. He hums, and nods, fully expecting Jisung to keep going with his half-asleep, mostly drunk tirade, expecting him to touch on how he isn’t even really angry, but just unbelievably _hurt._

But Minho’s expectations actually fall short of reality, and instead, he gets a soft, barely audible, “Minho… hyung— I want to kiss you.” The statement is accompanied by a goofy (still heart-shaped) smile, and while his surprise at the sudden declaration has Minho rapidly blinking, has Minho _quickly sobering up,_ this is also how Minho knows that his friend is inebriated beyond his wits.

“That’s funny,” he answers several seconds later, after he’s finally let the words settle at the pit of his stomach. He’s trying to sound like he’s unaffected, and even though he’s someone who has normally perfected the art of nonchalance, he’s still having a hard time keeping his cool this time around.  But then, he realises, there’s no way that Jisung is going to remember any of the night anyway once he wakes up in the morning - especially with the massive hangover that Minho is sure Jisung is set to have - so he thinks, that maybe, for once, he can actually be honest. “That’s funny,” he repeats, this time sounding more resigned. “Because so do I.”

Silence suddenly takes over once again, and a part of Minho wishes that the reason for this is because Jisung has passed out, because it would mean that, drunk or not, he didn’t hear Minho’s untimely confession. But then he he hears Jisung gently clearing his throat, and when Minho allows himself to look at the younger, he finds that Jisung has trained his big, shiny, button eyes right back at him,

“Is that new for you?” Jisung asks, and the inquiry has Minho arching an eyebrow - he’s unsure where Jisung wants to take this conversation.

“New—?”

“Wanting to—” Jisung giggles, puckers his lips and makes a show of pointing at them, “—these?”  Minho can only widen his eyes in response; this boy really is going to be the death of him one day, he thinks.

“You’re really drunk,” he comments, after a beat. For a moment there he’d been really tempted to just swoop in, and claim those lips with his own. But Jisung is drunk, and he isn’t entirely sober himself, and it would have been a Very Bad Idea. So he turns and rolls onto his back because this is the only action he can think of doing that doesn’t involve giving into temptation, and giving Jisung what he mistakenly thinks he’s asking for. Minho isn’t normally such a gentleman, but this is Jisung, and like he’d pointed out earlier, Minho is still in his life which is exactly where Minho wants to be. If he chooses to follow his instinct in that moment, never mind that the younger male likely won’t remember any of it after ten hours, Minho is probably (definitely, if he's being honest) not going to be able to stand still where he is.

“Hyung— answer my question,” Jisung keeps pouting anyway, using a cute and sleepy tone that, even on normal days, Minho would have a hard time refusing, especially once his hand starts to tug at Minho’s sleeve.

“You’re really drunk,” Minho repeats with an exasperated sigh, but he makes the grand mistake of glancing sideways at the younger, and there really is only so much of that adorable pouting he can take. It’s a weakness of his that Minho isn’t sure Jisung is aware of - he really hopes not, because quite frankly, there are very few things in this world that Minho can refuse Jisung once the latter starts giving him the look that he’s giving him in that moment. “Fine,” he groans, his resolve crumbling. “But you tell me first — is _this_ impulse new for _you?”_

“Hmm.” Jisung hums again, right before he lets out a long and drawn out dramatic sigh and he lets go of Minho’s shirt sleeve. He rolls onto his back as well, but he shifts closer so that the two of them are laying on his small, twin-sized bed, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m not really sure,” he admits, and from the corner of Minho’s eye, he notices Jisung’s eyelids flutter close once more.

“Hmm—” Minho copies Jisung’s tone; he can’t help but find Jisung’s attitude cute even now, and it brings forth an uncontrollable smile to his lips. “It’s honestly—” He turns to his side again so that he’s facing Jisung, and he’s taken aback by how closer they are to each other now. Jisung reeks of sweat and alcohol, but Minho doesn’t even really mind - he’s pretty sure he smells roughly similar. He wonders how honest he should be, but when he lightly nudges Jisung’s elbows, he realises that the answer would have been moot anyway - he gets no response from Jisung, and it’s clear that the younger has actually fallen into slumber.

For some reason, this is what drives him to complete honesty.

“Jisung,” he whispers, voice so soft that even if Jisung was awake, he probably would have a hard time understanding what Minho is saying. “Mine— mine has always been a constant feeling.” How to explain to his best friend of seven years that he has never really spent a day not wanting to kiss him? Not when they went out for seven months during Minho’s last year of high school, and certainly not any time in the five years that have passed since then. But again, it doesn’t really matter because Jisung is asleep and he won’t be hearing any of this so Minho boldly goes on. “You know how your washer has that weird and annoying whirring sound— like it annoyed you so much in the beginning when you first moved in here, and you’d complain to me all the time that you can’t even do your laundry in peace—” Minho chuckles softly, because like most memories he has of Jisung, this one brings him joy and amusement, “—but now, even though it’s still there, you’ve gotten so used to it that you barely hear it anymore. The feeling of wanting to kiss you is kinda like that. It was really annoying at the beginning, but now I’m so used to it that I…” Minho sighs. “Now I’m so used to it that sometimes I forget how much I actually, badly want to kiss you.”

He can’t believe the way the words just spilled out of him and for a second after he finishes, he holds his breath, scared that Jisung is actually awake and he’s going to open his eyes and laugh at him. Or worse - push him away and cut him off completely. But Jisung doesn’t; he remains unconscious and Minho is able to breathe a sigh of relief.

He closes his eyes and moves closer, one arm sliding around Jisung’s torso and pulling him close against his chest. Tomorrow, Jisung isn’t going to remember what he said, and they’re going to easily fall back into their normal routine.

And Minho is going to do his best to be fine with that.

That’s what he’s been doing all these years anyway.

  
  


 

**1 1 : 4 3 AM**

 

 

“G’morning!”

Minho wakes up to Jisung staring down at him, bags under his eyes and his hair sticking out all over the place. He almost laughs out loud, but then his blurry vision comes into focus, and he gets a better look at Jisung’s crooked teeth, beaming at him through his heart-shaped smile.

Minho ends up letting out a loud groan as he turns to his side, pulling his own pillow out from under his head so he can cover his face with it. It’s too early to be feeling this flushed over the adorable image of a newly-woken up Han Jisung.

“Hyung,” Jisung calls out to him, shaking his arm and trying to pull the pillow away. “Wake up, it’s almost noon—!” Minho sighs and allows the pillow to be taken away, and then once again he looks up at Jisung. He’s sitting on his side of the bed, back against the wall; he doesn’t look like he’s been up for much longer, but he’s also cradling a mug of coffee in his hands so Minho assumes he woke up some time in the last hour to prepare some. “G’morning,” Jisung repeats once Minho is awake enough to pull himself up to a sitting position next to him. A tired and sleepy smile adorns Jisung’s lips, and his voice is low, and somewhat hoarse. “The meds for this headache are taking forever to kick in.”

Minho grunts, leaning back before lowering his head so it can rest on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you make some for me too?” He asks, tapping the side of Jisung’s coffee mug.

The younger shrugs and simply offers to share the mug he’s drinking from; it makes Minho’s nose wrinkle because Jisung always goes overboard with the cream and sugar, but in that moment, getting up would be a far bigger hassle than drinking Jisung’s sugar flavored coffee, so he acquiesces and takes a small sip from the mug when Jisung holds it up close to his mouth. He whinges, because sure enough it’s way sweeter than he likes his coffee to be, but it does inject enough caffeine into his system for now.

“You’re still here,” Jisung suddenly points out, in a tone that Minho isn’t sure he can identify.

“Was I supposed to go somewhere in the middle of the night?” He mumbles, sounding annoyed enough that Jisung flinches. It makes Minho feel bad, prompting him to turn his head a little so he can nuzzle Jisung’s shoulder, just to let the younger know not to feel bad.

“I didn’t say that.” Jisung sighs and leans his head against Minho’s; he’s speaking slowly and softly, probably to keep head throbbing at bay. “It’s just an observation. _You’re still here.”_

“Mhm. That seems to be a recurring theme in your life,” he murmurs, reaching for the mug of coffee, and taking it out of Jisung’s hands so he can take a slow sip from it. Jisung grumbles in response, clearly confused, but Minho ignores it. _You’re still here._ They’re the same words from the night before, but they’re being said in a completely different context.

“I dreamed I kissed you last night,” Jisung suddenly says, seemingly out of the blue, and Minho almost spits his drink back into the mug. _Fuck,_ he thinks, because this seems to be another recurring thing from the night before: Jisung  talking about kissing him; the drunk version of Jisung, Minho can understand. But this now almost feels like Jisung just really wants to tease him, which in turn makes Minho feel annoyed.

But he manages to keep his calm - at least on the outside. Now that he’s completely sober (and not sporting a hangover, because unlike Jisung, he was responsible enough to take anti-hangover meds _before_ drinking), he’s become an expert at faking indifference again. “Do you want me to?” He asks, one corner of his lips turning up - a deliberate smirk that gets Jisung visibly flustered. _Good,_  Minho thinks, satisfied. Jisung deserves it just for the number of times he’s caught Minho off-guard, the last twelve hours alone. “Was it at least good?” He prods, twisting his neck so that he and Jisung are face to face. They’re so close to each other now, that the faint mole on the side of Jisung’s nose - the one that mirrors his own - is very clearly visible to Minho, despite how flushed Jisung’s entire face is. He’s trying to ignore the tugging at the corners of his lips, but seeing the younger male look so confused and imbalanced really amuses him.

“W-what?” Jisung is so agitated, and that pushes Minho to move closer, right until the tips of their noses are practically grazing each other’s.

“The kiss,” Minho explains, voice low, but soft. He isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing either; he’s taunting Jisung, that’s for sure, and it’s certainly working, but he has no idea what for - or at least he has no idea what he’s expecting out of this. Maybe something in him broke from the night before because now, all of sudden, he’s just tired and done with trying to pretend that he ever really got over his feelings for Jisung.

It’s crazy because they’ve been friends for far longer than they were boyfriends. All things considered, that time where they’d gone steady could easily be considered an anomaly. A blip in time, at most. Even the way they’d gotten together (Jisung had confessed, _very_ unceremoniously, with a simple “I like you a lot, hyung,” and Minho had nodded, and said, “Me too— so how about we date?”) and the way the relationship had ended (“You’re really busy now that you’re in university, and I don’t want to be the high school boyfriend holding you back,” Jisung had said, his smile more encouraging than pained, and all Minho could do was agree, while making Jisung promise that they remained friends) were both very perfunctory and hardly deserving to be followed by years of secret pining.

Jisung swallows quietly - but Minho naturally notices it. But then, there are very few things Jisung can do that would escape Minho’s attention. The younger male lets out a small puff of air, a slow exhale that deflates his cute cheeks and allows him to relax some. “I suppose,” he finally says. Jisung’s eyes are bright again, and his lips are curved into a smile. “You always _did_ kiss good.”

Now it’s Minho’s turn to be taken aback; he should have seen that coming the moment Jisung recovered the mischievous glint in his eyes, and Minho should have known to brace himself. In the end, he allows himself to laugh at the comment - although it’s a little forced, which makes him also almost choke on his warm, overly sweet coffee, and soon he’s more coughing and sputtering rather than actually laughing.

“Granted—” Jisung, of course, just _continues,_ because he can be just as much of a little shit as Minho when he wants to be. The smug grin he’s sporting now is a sure sign that this is one of those times when he’s actively choosing to be one; clearly, despite whatever hangover is ailing Jisung, he’s managed to get both his snark and sense of humor back. “We haven’t kissed in Four? Five? Years—”

The correct answer is a little under four years; there was a time when both of them were already in university, both of them single, and both of them were playing a stupid drinking game with their friends. Neither of them had mentioned it since, so Minho assumes that either Jisung has completely forgotten about it, or Jisung has actively chosen to forget about it. He’s long ago decided that he isn’t very keen on finding out for sure.

Again - seven months _and thirteen days,_ the stretch of time at the tail end of Minho’s last year of high school (and Jisung’s first), when they dated. Granted, that seems like a lifetime when you’re at a young impressionable age, but they’re both adults now (twenty-four, and twenty-two, respectively), and in the grand scheme of things, which includes a total of four ex-boyfriends for Jisung, and a countless number of flings for Minho - it doesn’t really seem to be that significant. Or it shouldn’t anyway - but here they are now. Not a lot of things can get under Minho’s skin, but Jisung has unknowingly pushed his buttons through the years and this time really is no different.

“Sounds to me like you’re curious about how I kiss _presently,”_ Minho manages to retort; even now he refuses to give in to vulnerability. He doesn’t want show weakness first - between the two of them, Jisung has always been the one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and if he’s going to be playful about this, then Minho sure as hell is going to tease him right back.

Minho trains his gaze on Jisung, his eyes flitting briefly towards his lips, before they settle on Jisung’s eyes. They’re still so close to each other, and Minho assures himself that Jisung has always been the type to lose when playing games like gay chicken. Except right now he totally isn’t budging; he’s just staring right back, and Minho feels himself faltering. He wonders if this means Jisung maybe really did dream of a kiss with him the night before, and that maybe he genuinely curious about how Minho kisses now. Jisung’s big, bright eyes steadily bore into his own until finally, it’s Minho who gives in.

He leans away under the pretense of putting the now near-empty coffee mug away, and he turns so quickly that he completely misses the look of mild disappointment that briefly takes over Jisung’s features.

  
  


 

**0 2 : 3 4 PM**

 

 

“Oh. Shit. _Fuck.”_

The two of them are at a nearby minimart; after a breakfast of nothing but coffee and toast, they had ended up ordering a more filling lunch from a family-owned jokbal restaurant that both of them favor a lot. And then Jisung had discovered that he was all out of ice cream, and all other sweets and he’d hemmed and hawed, until Minho had given in and agreed to go out to buy some, even though all he really wanted to do at that point was sleep the rest of the day away.

He had been in the middle of picking ice cream bars (and being completely indecisive over whether he wants a Pig bar or a Jaws bar), when he looks up as a soft string of cuss words tumble off of Jisung’s tongue, one after another. He’s always been in tune to Jisung and his moods, but to be frank, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Jisung’s completely freaking out in that moment. He’d ask what’s wrong, but a quick scan of their surroundings allows him to immediately pinpoint the cause of Jisung’s sudden anxiety.

Walking towards them, sporting a small, uneven smile, is Jisung’s most recent ex-boyfriend and the current star of Jisung’s self-pitying sessions, Hwang Hyunjin. He’s accompanied by his best friend, Seungmin, and maybe a month ago, Minho wouldn’t have minded running into them. He actually gets along with these two, which is more than Minho can say about some of Jisung’s other exes, and their friends. (Heck, he didn’t even bother getting to know most of the other shitstains in  Jisung’s life, let alone bother meeting _their_ friends.)

This time, though, he can only wince in annoyance as the two approach them. He had thought Jisung was finally over Hyunjin after the previous night; or at least he’d assumed that he’d vomited all the residual feelings together with his dinner and the shit ton of alcohol he’d imbibed, but here Jisung is now, frozen and a complete bundle of nerves.

“Hey, Jisung—” Hyunjin greets; he sounds so uncertain that it annoys Minho even more. He thinks that if he couldn’t even be confident in greeting Jisung, then he shouldn’t have approached - then all of them could have escaped this incredibly awkward meeting. “Hyung,” Hyunjin continues, nodding at Minho in acknowledgment.

He nods back, and then he looks past Hyunjin, towards Seungmin who is looking as uncomfortable as Minho is feeling. Seungmin nods at him, too, but his lips are pressed into a thin line; knowing him, Minho guesses that Seungmin had advised against approaching them. Seungmin is a smart guy, Hyunjin, obviously, is not.

 _Really,_ he thinks. Out of all the fucking minimarts in Seoul, why did Jisung’s ex-boyfriend have to go to this one, too?

“Hyunjin, hey.” At least Jisung doesn’t sound shaky when he greets Hyunjin. “Seungmin,” he adds, nodding and waving to him, as well. The smile he puts on to accompany the niceties even reaches his eyes, and Minho is grudgingly impressed.

For his part, Hyunjin is as cordial as ever. Out of everyone that Jisung has dated in the last several years, he’s probably the nicest. He’s sweet, polite, and he laughs at all of Jisung’s ridiculous jokes, and if Minho is being honest he doesn’t really understand where their relationship went wrong. Jisung hasn’t really gone into detail about it with him, either, and Minho has never been the type to pry.

Jisung and Hyunjin continue to exchange pleasantries, making small talk about their classes which Minho finds utterly ridiculous. It’s as if Jisung hadn’t been getting piss drunk and crying his eyes out because of Hyunjin not even twenty-four hours ago. It’s annoying, so he grabs a handful of ice cream bars and throws it into the basket that Jisung is holding.

“Come on,” he says says gruffly, placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder and nudging him forward. “I’m tired, and we got your ice cream. Let’s go.” He ignores Hyunjin’s amiable goodbye, and pretends not to notice Seungmin’s narrowing gaze that’s directed at him. He takes the basket away from Jisung, and pushes past all of them so he can make his way to the counter. Jisung is left behind, bowing apologetically for his rudeness, and saying quick goodbyes before jogging after him.

“What the hell is wrong with you, hyung?!” Jisung snaps, grabbing the basket away from him and emptying it on the counter himself so that he can pay before Minho can even take his wallet out of his pocket. He doesn’t really know how to answer, because Jisung not trying to trick Minho into treating him is a sure sign that he’s annoyed, so Minho stays quiet. Probably for the better anyway, because for some reason he’s feeling the angriest impulse to tell Jisung off and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing just that.

“Hyung—” Jisung’s tone is softer by the time he follows Minho out of the store. He sounds like he has something he wants to tell Minho, which is the only reason why the older slows down his walking. “Do you realise, that out of all the guys I’ve dated, you’re the only one who has managed to remain friends with me?” Jisung says these words, and Minho almost kicks a stone towards his direction.

 _Of course,_ he thinks, almost bitter at the way Jisung keeps pointing this out like there's even any question about it. Jisung was his friend before everything else. They used to get on so well, that there was a time, in their early teens, before love and romance had complicated things, when they could practically finish each other's jokes and sentences. Minho used to pretend it was annoying, but the truth is that he and Jisung complement each other so well, and it's not exactly very easy finding anyone who matches you so well in so many aspects, from interests, to humor, to core values.

“Is this about that guy back inside there?” He asks, thumb jerking back towards the direction they’d just come from.

“No! What - it’s about you.” Jisung frowns; he’s clearly confused about what he’s saying as well. “Although, I guess, seeing Hyunjin made me realise this.”

Now it’s Minho’s turn to frown. “You and Hyunjin still look mighty friendly though. He looks more than willing to stay in your life,” he points out. He can feel the petty jealousy rising up his throat and he wants to throw it up, but because he is who he is, he still manages to sound completely calm and sound, despite the passive aggression that his actual words carry.

Jisung sighs. “That’s not it, hyung. That’s not the point I’m trying to make—” He sounds small, and almost sad. Resigned, maybe? Very unlike how Jisung usually is. “How is it, that after all these years, you’re still in my life, Lee Minho?”

Minho almost scoffs because in his head the answer is obvious - it’s because _he wants to be._ But he doesn’t because he couldn’t say that out loud. He snorts and shakes his head in response, acting like Jisung is being ridiculous and like there’s no discussion to be had about this.  

Most days he likes to pretend that Jisung causes him a lot of hell; that he’s the only one secretly suffering through this friendship with so many pretensions, but the truth is that he’s just as much of a coward as Jisung is oblivious.

  
  


 

**0 7 : 2 0 PM**

 

 

Despite the strange tension between the two of them that afternoon, Minho still ends up staying at Jisung’s apartment straight through dinner. They order again, this time from their favorite chicken place. Jisung is on the couch, and Minho is on the floor, both of them stuffing their faces with chicken wings, while their eyes are kept glued to the television screen - never mind that it’s just the original Pokemon movie, which they’d found airing on some random cable channel they didn’t even realise Jisung was subscribed to.

“Hey.” Jisung is gentle as he pokes the back of Minho’s shoulder with his toes; on screen, the pokemon are just starting to battle with their clones and Minho is hard-pressed to turn and acknowledge him. “Minho-hyung, hey.” Jisung sounds careful, cautious - like he’s unsure about the topic he’s about to broach.

“What?” Minho, finally, turns to face him. He sounds exasperated and he doesn’t want to be; most days he has infinite patience for Jisung, and his spontaneous questions and his random ramblings, and his endless well of energy, but at the moment he feels like he’s treading on thin ice. He probably should have gone home hours ago, but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he’s been waiting for something to happen since the night prior. Even before he took Jisung home; maybe even starting from the moment he picked Jisung up and they headed to the drinking stall together, backs of their hands lightly brushing against each other as they walked down the sidewalk.

“You know him?”

Minho has no idea what or who Jisung is talking about, but he bites.

“Who?” And then he laughs as he thinks of something. “Ash? Pikachu—?” He smiles and reaches over to poke one of Jisung’s cheeks. “You know, I heard that Pikachu’s character design was originally inspired by squirrels.”

“Tch,” Jisung scoffs. A more natural smile appears on his face, just as he squeaks out, _“Pika—! Pikachu!”_

Minho laughs, his hand immediately moving to pat Jisung on the head. “Cute,” he mumbles, affection dripping off his tongue without him even realising it.

Jisung nuzzles against his hand, but then he sighs, and the smile is gone again, replaced with something more wistful. “I meant the chicken delivery guy,” he clarifies, sliding off the edge of the couch so he can sit on the floor next to Minho. “That guy— you know him?”

He almost snorts as the realisation sinks in; Jisung means _that_ guy, and funny enough, Minho _is_ quite familiar with him. “Woojin-hyung? Yeah, I know him. What about him?” Mostly he knows Woojin because for a few months a while back, before he’d graduated university, he had also worked part time at a coffee shop just a block away from Jisung’s apartment, and right across the street from the chicken chain restaurant Woojin worked at. It’s how the place had become their default favorite, even; Minho used to visit and stay the night at Jisung’s all the time, always bringing with him a box of fried chicken from that place - he isn’t sure if Jisung realises or remembers that, though. He thinks probably not.

“You were flirting with him.” There’s a certain tone in Jisung’s voice that sounds a little like jealousy - which is strange, because all he did was greet the guy in question, in a friendly manner before paying for their food. All of which had taken not much more than five minutes. Minho turns to give Jisung an incredulous look, but he’s met with an uncertain expression on the younger’s face.

“I didn’t mean just now,” Jisung explains; he seems nervous, mostly just stabbing his chopsticks into his bowl of rice and mixing the contents around. “He was there last night, too. Drinking with some friends.” Minho has actually almost forgotten this, but now that Jisung has reminded him, he remembers that he knows this - Woojin was seated a few tables away with some of his co-workers, and when Minho was ordering another round of drinks, they’d called him over. They had bantered a little bit, and _okay,_ maybe Minho had flirted some. It’s always fun trading barbs with Woojin mostly because Minho never knows which buttons to push with him, and that’s exciting, in it’s own way. He had no idea that Jisung even noticed though, and now he doesn’t know what Jisung is expecting him to say, so he remains quiet under the pretense of slowly chewing his food. It doesn’t appear to matter that much because the younger male continues to mumble on anyway. “He totally wanted you. I remember that much.” And at this point Minho can only chortle; to be fair, he supposes that Jisung isn’t completely off the mark. He and Woojin have a subtle, but running flirtation that probably means Minho can choose to go home with Woojin if he ever chooses to - but that’s the point, he never chooses to. And he especially wouldn’t have chosen to last night because he was with Jisung, and Jisung clearly just wanted to get sloshed so he can forget about his own romantic troubles.

“Why are you being annoying about this?” He expresses obvious displeasure at the topic, and usually that kind of tone is enough to get Jisung off his case, but their dynamic must really be off that day because he doesn’t even balk; in fact Jisung blatantly ignores his attempt to end the conversation there, choosing instead to keep on going.

“I’m just saying,” Jisung presses. “He wanted you. You could’ve gone home with him. You should have.”

His words grate at Minho, who can only stare and gawk at him. “So, should I have left you alone by the sidewalk with just your vomit as company?”

Jisung frowns, and Minho quickly looks away because he can’t stand the expression that his friend is giving him. “I could have taken myself home. It was a block away, I would’ve made it safely. I’m not a kid and I’m not here to stop you from getting laid.”

Minho grits his teeth in annoyance; despite the invisible tension in the air, the day has been mostly good between the two of them. He doesn’t understand why Jisung is so insistent on suddenly pawning him off over to someone else. Minho thinks, _fuck this,_ if this is Jisung’s way of subtly telling him they’re never going to happen again. But then Jisung has never operated that way; Jisung is always straightforward, at least when he’s clear on his own feelings. He’s not the type to be manipulative with his words - so he strikes that thought out. Still, he couldn’t completely hide his chagrin at the attitude that Jisung is giving him. “I know you’re not,” he snaps. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Jisung looks like a kicked puppy at his words, and for several minutes, both of them fall silent. “Why are we fighting?” Jisung is still the one to first speak again, but his words are very obviously laced with both sadness and confusion at once.

“We’re not.”

“You seem angry. Is it about that Woojin guy?” It frustrates Minho that he’s still on that - he doesn’t even really think of, or remember Woojin when he isn’t right in front of him. A far cry from the reality of his long standing feelings for Jisung.

The truth is that Minho thought he was over actively wanting Jisung. He’s always known his feelings were there - how could he not be aware when every time they’re together, either he never wants the day to end, or he wants to end it with a kiss. He’s become so good at ignoring his natural impulses around Jisung, though, that Minho almost had himself convinced for a while that he was over _wanting_ him, that he was completely _fine_ , just being by Jisung’s side as his best friend.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jisung prods at him some more; it’s hard to tell if he’s being willfully oblivious, or he’s deliberately trying to push him over the edge.

“What’s wrong with _you?”_ Minho snaps back, head turning to face the other; Jisung’s eyes grow double in size as they widen when their gazes meet.

“Nothing.” This time, it’s Jisung who gives in first, turning away with full, flushed cheeks, pretending to put his focus back on his food.

Once again, very pregnant silence envelope both of them. Soon, it gets to be too much even for Minho, and with a huff, he ruffles his hair in a frustrated manner and opens his mouth. “I want to kiss you.” Not exactly the words he was meaning to actually say, but somehow they’re what come out.

 _“What?”_ And there it is again, Jisung’s patented look of utter confusion that usually just serves as a reason to make Minho want to kiss him more. Perhaps that’s even a small part of why he said what he did - he always has enjoyed seeing Jisung look like that.

“That’s what _you_ said last night.” Now that he’s had a minute to breathe and calm down, Minho is back to being more calculated with his words. “After you thanked me for still being in your life.” Jisung still looks unsure as to what Minho is talking about, but once again he’s put his food down, and the subtle changes in his expression show that forcing the issue is making him remember at least bits and pieces of what went down the night before.

“Hyung—”

This time, Minho is quick to cut him off though; originally, he wanted to hear what Jisung had to say, but the moment he opened his mouth Minho had realised that now is actually the time for him to talk. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, Jisung,” he admits quietly. “I think maybe I’m still waiting for you.” And that’s really as honest as he’s gotten with Jisung for a long while now. “I want to say that you’ve been testing my patience all day but that would be a lie. Jisung, you’ve been testing my patience for the last five years.”

A look of complete hurt takes over Jisung’s face. “I’m - I don’t. You’re the one who broke my heart when I was seventeen, hyung.”

He feels a striking pain in his chest at the accusation; he knows Jisung can be dense but he never realised that he subscribed to this kind of history revisionism as well. “You broke up with me, Jisung.”

Jisung’s chest visibly heaves as he attempts to calm himself down. Minho can tell that he’s trying to find the right words - so in the meantime, he just stares. “You started acting so cold and weird around me, hyung,” Jisung murmurs, “and I just felt like I needed to rip off the bandaid because—” His breath hitches, and the corner of Minho’s mouth twitches. “—because I was seventeen, and I was completely falling in love with you.”

Minho feels his heart sink into his stomach. Everything Jisung just said takes him back. He was nineteen, fresh out of high school, and he might be older by two years, but that didn’t mean he felt more ready for the onslaught of feelings at the time. He had felt pretty small and young in the face of love, too; he’d fallen hard and deep, and all of it had felt stupid and overwhelming. Now he realises that Jisung is right, he had started pulling away even before the two of them had ended things. When he considers this, it really is a surprise he’s still in Jisung’s life.

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Jisung sighs. Minho is keeping quiet, but now Jisung can’t stop stammering. “I didn’t— I don’t. I never meant to hold you back— I’m. Hyung, is that why nothing’s ever worked out… with you and all those other guys?” Minho purses his lips tightly - he’s never really given it much thought, why it was so easy to sleep around, but Jisung is obviously right.

“I can say the same about you and all the guys you’ve dated—”

“It doesn’t mean I never tried,” Jisung snaps; this time it’s his turn to cut Minho off. “At least I’ve _tried.”_

They sit there, on the floor, staring at each other. Minho has always wondered how in the world he fell in love with the world’s most oblivious dumbass, but he’s realising that he hasn’t been the most forthcoming person either. He doesn’t realise as the distance between them get smaller, not until Jisung’s lips are hovering a mere centimeter away from his. All he needs to do is cover that last piece of distance - but then just like that, Jisung pulls away.

“I can’t,” Jisung mumbles, a stricken look etched across his features while he scrambles to get up to his feet. “I need to think,” he adds, and the next thing Minho knows is that he’s being clued in to his disappearing into his bedroom by the loud sound of his door being slammed close.

  
  


 

**1 0 : 0 8 PM**

 

 

“Don’t you have your own apartment to go back to? A roommate that’s waiting for you?”

Jisung is right, and maybe a month ago - maybe even a week ago, after getting rejected  like that, Minho would have definitely retreated on his own. He never wants to push anything when it comes to Jisung but something’s been building over the last twenty-four hours that has made him realise how much he’s had enough of pretending that he hasn’t been always waiting in the wings.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, already?” Minho shoots back readily. “Changbin’s a big boy, anyway. He can take care of himself - doubt he’d set the apartment on fire just because I’m gone for a day or two.”

He has been sitting on Jisung’s couch for the last couple of hours after cleaning up the remains of their dinner. All he had was the sound effects of the mindless mobile game he’d taken to playing, blasting into his ears as a way to distract himself from thinking too much about Jisung, and whatever it is that’s going through his head behind his closed bedroom door.

He had assumed that Jisung would come out, sooner or later - and he’s actually relieved that it turns out he does know Jisung quite well, because here he is now, standing in front of Minho, looking like he’s finally ready to talk.

“No.” Jisung even gives him a little smile when he steps closer and takes a seat next to him. “I’m glad you’re here.” He seems to relax when Minho doesn’t move or say anything, and his eyes light up more as his smile grows. “Hyung, I’ve never told you why Hyunjin broke up with me, have I?”

Minho looks at him with a nervous, tentative expression, and then he quietly shakes his head.

Jisung sighs. “He says it's because I wasn't fully into the relationship—“ he winces and looks down, fidgeting with his hands as he continues, “—honestly, that's what they all have said, more or less, just differently worded every time.”

“That's ridiculous,” Minho counters. He feels frustration rumbling in his chest; Jisung's explanation is making him retroactively angry because Jisung is the one person he knows who puts his heart into _everything_ he does.

“Hyung,” Jisung chuckles, and he lightly punches Minho's arm. “You're getting worked up— _don't._ In some ways, I guess they were right.” Despite his attempt at appeasing Minho, the latter still isn't entirely convinced; and then their gazes meet and Minho visibly deflates, because there's something in Jisung's eyes that seem genuinely happy and at peace. “Hyung,” he says, his smile growing even wider, “I’m really thankful that out of the boyfriends I’ve had, you’re the still one by my side.”

A small chuckle escapes Minho’s throat as the words settle in his heart and he allows Jisung to reach for both of his hands. Minho has pretty tiny hands, but so does Jisung, and it’s always amused him how perfectly they fit together. He meets Jisung’s eyes when the latter threads his fingers through Minho’s, and he can’t help but smile because Jisung has one on his face as well, one that’s so eager and so contagious.

“Minho-hyung—” Jisung sounds a little shy now, and quite anxious, if the nervous giggles spilling out of him are any indication. His head falls on Minho’s shoulder, but his words are clear to Minho when he speaks. “I want you to always stay in my life.”

Loud, actual, laughter escapes Minho, and he reaches over to lift Jisung’s chin. His grin is practically ear to ear as he leans in to nuzzle Jisung’s cheek. He’s not sure what more he can say - or maybe he’s just too happy to come up with actual words.

And so Minho simply leans in, his lips finally connecting with Jisung’s. Hopefully the correct message he wants to convey reaches Jisung - he’s always going to be there for him, because there really is nowhere else he’d rather be.

  


 

 

**end.**

**Author's Note:**

> [ 3 ] This was actually originally inspired by this particular exchange between Dawson’s Creek’s Pacey and Joey:
> 
>       **Joey:** Wait, wait, wait. You were wanting to kiss me all night?
> 
>       **Pacey:** Yes.
> 
>       **Joey:** Even when you were yelling at me.
> 
>       **Pacey:** Especially when I was yelling at you.
> 
>       **Joey:** Even when you were flirting with that other girl?
> 
>       **Pacey:** Yeah. Then, too.
> 
>       **Joey:** So... is this... some sort of... recent new development in your life?
> 
>       **Pacey:** Wanting to kiss you? No. It's sort of always there... like...white noise, or... the secret service or the threat of nuclear war, for that matter. Just somethin' you get used to.
> 
>       **Dawson’s Creek,** 6x15, _Castaways_
> 
> [ 4 ] As usual, any form of feedback would be much appreciated! Also, feel free to direct questions, etc. to my [CC](http://curiouscat.me/yiminho)! Thank you for reading to the end (:


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